


Oh, Won't You Please Take Me Home?

by Thette



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Afterlife, Angelcest, Canonical Character Death, Fluff and Crack, Hate Sex, M/M, Rape Fantasy, all actual sexual activity is consensual and non-graphic, but between angels who refer to each other as siblings, hate sex fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thette/pseuds/Thette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthazar meets Gabriel in the angel afterlife. Snarkiness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Won't You Please Take Me Home?

**Author's Note:**

> Dubcon/hatesex fantasies, no actual dubcon sex. Angels refer to each others as siblings, and these two angels do get together sexually. I have no idea if that counts as sibling incest.
> 
> Takes place at the end of season six. Title from Guns N' Roses' Paradise City. "Fruits on little sticks" is a reference to Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan series. "Igloo of candy canes" from shanetaylor on Tumblr.

It wasn't Heaven, Balthazar knew that much. It was also nothing like Hell. He carefully walked along the gray path into the mist. So far, he hadn't met a single creature. It could have been so much worse. He had never expected to die, least of all by the sword of someone like Castiel, but in the moments when he had considered what would happen to an angel after death, simple non-existence had been high on the list. Or reincarnation, possibly as a naked monkey. That would suit God's supposed sense of humor.  
  
A voice called his name, the sound leaking in from the ever-present mist. The voice was eerily familiar. Ahead, a soft light started shining. "Balthazar!" It couldn't be. "'Zar, come on over!"  
  
He walked towards the light with determined steps, almost as if he were a soldier again. What he saw was highly unexpected. Leaning back on a divan was Gabriel. Balthazar nodded in greeting. "Gabriel. It's been a while."  
  
"Yeah. I got snuffed by Lucy."  
  
"Nice place you've got." Balthazar looked around. The small bright clearing was without a trace of the mist. It was decorated like a Roman villa, obscene mosaics on the floor, divans around a low, tripod table and a luxurious hot spring bath glimpsed beyond marble arches. Strangely enough, there were also an igloo of candy canes and a tree with chocolate bars instead of fruit.  
  
"Takes some effort to keep up, let me tell you. I'm not inviting just anyone. Wouldn't want our annoying little brothers to break my concentration."  
  
"I'm flattered."  
  
"You always were my favorite."  
  
"Aww, Gabe, you're getting soft in your old age." Balthazar tilted his head sarcastically, but he really was flattered. He had always looked up to Gabriel, the fun older brother, and his not quite rebellion had been an inspiration.  
  
"Have a seat," Gabriel said and gestured towards another divan. Balthazar sat down, trying not to be obedient or needlessly impressed. He watched his brother sip his drink, a toxic pink concoction with an umbrella and fruits on little sticks. It looked ridiculously sweet. "From what I've heard, your choice of poison is different from mine." A flute of champagne materialized on the table. "But do try the Godiva fountain." Gabriel dipped a strawberry in the chocolate cascading from a fountain beside him, rolled the strawberry in colorful sprinkles, and ate it with a look of decadent pleasure on his face. "You'll never be more than pleasantly buzzed, and you can eat as much as you want without feeling sick. I made my own paradise, baby."  
  
"I like your idea of paradise. It's only lacking the supermodels for the orgy."  
  
"Let's just not go there. I tried. They did come, but they turned out to be angels."  
  
They both made faces of distaste. Angels were superior in many respects, but humans had perfected the pleasures of the flesh. Balthazar imagined a tumbler filled with a fragrant, peaty single malt scotch instead of the champagne, and the glass changed in his hand. "See? You're learning already."  
  
"Stop patronizing me."  
  
Gabriel shrugged with a look of fake innocence. "So, tell me, how did the angel who holds the staff of Moses, the horn of Joshua and a ton of other weapons of heaven end up here?" Balthazar lifted one of his eyebrows, and Gabriel spread his hands. "Yeah, I know. I watched it all. Just wanted you to tell me."  
  
"Cas stabbed me in the back."  
  
"The bitch," Gabriel said, sounding like he didn't give a damn. The chocolate fountain was really a good idea. "And I know for a fact that your ultimate cause of death also was proximity to Winchesters. Dangerous business, those boys."  
  
"You, too?" He picked up on the implication. "I did not know that."  
  
"One might even said I joined Team Free Will. For a short while."  
  
"How did that work out for you?" They weren't watching each other any more. They just sat there, at an angle, looking at a point in between them.  
  
"Saved their ungrateful asses. At the cost of my own round and firm one."  
  
They raised their glasses in a silent toast, once again making eye contact. Gabriel gestured, and a shimmering scene in the air showed Castiel killing Raphael. "Good riddance," Balthazar said.  
  
"Not worth the price," Gabriel replied, as they watched Castiel claim godhood. Bobby Singer fell to his knees, the Winchesters did not. "Good for them. Not that I'd mind them kneeling before me, in all senses of the word."  
  
Oh, yeah. It had crossed his mind before. "I'd hatefuck Dean so hard. Not because he looks good, even though I've rarely seen a mortal carry off the beaten and bloody look so well, but because I'd get there before Castiel."  
  
"I have to admit that getting one over our socially awkward baby brother would be so much fun. Can't believe they haven't been screwing like dirty humans for years. But personally, I'd take Sam for a patented trickster spin. I just lo-ove messing with him. He breaks so pretty. I mean, look at that!" Gabriel gestured at the image of the three men standing up to the overclocked angel.  
  
"Now that you mention it..."  
  
"Hey, bros don't poach." Gabriel leered. "But bros can share. We should Eiffel Tower his ass into next Tuesday. I like Tuesdays."  
  
"Sounds like a plan." They clinked their glasses together in a promise.  
  
Time didn't exactly pass in Gabriel's paradise, but as the confrontation between the former members of Team Free Will wound down, Gabriel switched the view to a women's basketball team in the showers, to a certain highly regarded "moral values" politician getting caught with a male hooker, to La Traviata at the Wiener Staatsoper, to sweeping views of New Zealand.  
  
"Gabe," Balthazar asked quietly, without watching his brother, his fellow warrior, his superior, "I suspect that I shouldn't stray from this place."  
  
"I wouldn't recommend it. Unless you like the gray mist or you've recently become much more powerful without your weapons." His voice was subdued. "It takes a lot of my mind to keep this up. But I do want you here. I'm guessing that even with ten billion channels, you'll feel like there's nothing on sometimes. Here." He flicked his hand, and two decadent bedrooms with thick oak doors turned up at opposite ends of the atrium. "One for you and one for me. For when we need to get out of each other's hair."  
  
The kindness was unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome. "How bad would it be if you were distracted?"  
  
The Trickster smiled with only the left side of his face. "Oh, I can take plenty of distraction, all right. I'll let you know a long time before we go critical."  
  
Balthazar moved quickly, straddling Gabriel and holding his face in his hands. "Well, then, let's make the best of your personal paradise," he said as he leaned in for a kiss. Somewhere in the background, Paradise City started playing.


End file.
